


ethereal (just like the hell I found)

by sandpapersnowman



Category: The Collector Series (Movies)
Genre: Blood, Blood Kink, Cutting, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 00:17:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9467021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandpapersnowman/pseuds/sandpapersnowman
Summary: He offered to let Arkin choose which knife he used. He wouldn't answer, so he just chose a favorite.





	

**Author's Note:**

> song is from [Haunt You](https://www.google.com/amp/s/genius.com/amp/The-pack-ad-haunt-you-lyrics?client=ms-android-att-aio-us) by The Pack a.d. (did y'all know that angsty ass song was the opening credits song for collection? unbelievable)

The cut is deeper than he anticipates. It's Arkin's fault, really; the way his breaths had shallowed and quickened when he brought the knife closer, the anticipation, the anxiety. It's just a scalpel, his 23, one Arkin has seen before. Maybe it's because he's between his legs, knelt down between Arkin's knees. Maybe it's because he doesn't usually strip Arkin down for cuts.

His hand slips while he's distracted watching Arkin's mouth twitch over air. It's not terrible, just not what he'd planned.

Arkin goes pale watching the blood start.

"It's alright," he says, softly. 

He puts the scalpel down, out of Arkin's reach even if he weren't strapped into this chair, and takes a moment to pet him. It always calms him down, even if he hates it, and after a few strokes of his gloves through Arkin's hair his breathing starts settling from panicked sobs to scared sobs. Good.

There's a trail of red down either side of his thigh, still welling up from the gash at the top.

He presses his thumb over it to stop the flow, just for a moment, and Arkin jerks.

"Stop," Arkin gasps. 

"It's alright," he says again.

He lowers his mouth to where it's dripping off to the floor, bent uncomfortably between his legs. 

He doesn't quite kiss there -- opens his mouth and brushes his lips over the blood, of course, smears it mostly by accident with his tongue to get a taste. 

Arkin's breath has caught in his throat when he comes back up, lips red through his mask. 

"Stop," Arkin asks again, weaker.

He takes his thumb away and the blood starts again. Arkin can't even look now, lolls his head away with another faint noise.

The Collector considers the thin line of red in his skin. A couple tape stitches will be fine once he gets the bleeding to mostly stop, and it'll be healed with a hint of a scar at most within a couple weeks.

"You're fine," he whispers, like he's comforting a child, and mouths at his thigh again. Arkin's breath does something again, like always, he's so sensitive, but he's keeping his leg still for whatever the Collector is going to do.

He considers going higher, kissing past his groin and up his stomach, chest, neck, pulling his face toward him again and forcing Arkin's mouth to his, but that can wait. He smiles imagining Arkin with pale cheeks and bright red lips, his own blood smeared over them and him squirming like he's being burnt just trying to get out of his own skin.

He stands, instead, so he can get the tape stitches it needs, but he waits for Arkin to look at him first.

It takes a moment, but he finally forces himself to focus on the Collector rather than the floor.

The Collector smiles, pushes his thumb in his own mouth, and pulls the blood off his glove with his tongue.

Arkin retches.

**Author's Note:**

> [find me on tumblr!](http://sandpapersnowman.tumblr.com/ao3direct)


End file.
